In the turn from wide to narrow streets seams in the street shudder my tires, loosed leaves flutter through the fog. Police on patrol secure the corner the five-columned church commands. Blocked by brush-wide blurs of contrails, the sun settles behind the storm. There’s a death in my house, a dearth of charity, a chastened child unwrapping his […]
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The liquor bottle in the grass the blue recycling bucket likes you but not the trouble you come with. Danny P. Barbare resides in the Southern U.S. in the Upstate of the Carolinas. He has been writing poetry on and off for 33 years. He has several books available on amazon.com: Being a Janitor and Gathered Poems.
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Small Packages – By Gil Hoy I’d like to drink up the Universe from a can of Diet Coke, bought from my ancestors’ most virtuous moments. With no deposit required–can’t be returned without your consent, a secret label on the side that reads: “only the purest, natural ingredients.” Has a pull tab that opens like a forever Christmas morning […]
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I hardly Knew You We remember a lost President, assassinated, promises unfulfilled, who dazzled the nation with youthful vigor almost unAmerican glamour, and many reminisce of what could have been, forgetting the best and brightest sent abroad in the Peace Corps, instead of working at home to cure national ills, forgetting how close he came to incinerating the world, […]
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Shaping the Internal Of course it’s about the words… their weight, their meaning. Stringing them, placing them, cutting them. Wielding them with passion, fury, and sometimes… regret. With careful measure given to every syllable, every pause. For words are both weapon and salve. Love and hate. Kind and malicious. Words take root deep within. They linger long into […]
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You climb and these steps spread out in those rings trees still carry under their wings –you collect height and at night two at a time though the steps are chipped the inscriptions worn away staring off to the side –they will be first spruced back to life and at the top you move the sun back […]
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My God Author: Milenko Županović King wanted to build a hill in this place works are going very slowly his insane ideas workers have died in this place when King was already old, ordered the construction stops the sun is shining on a rocks Along the valleye choed my God, my God At that moment, everyone knelt and began […]
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‘Misery Of Living’ On a first name basis at my hometown pharmacy Solace is an orange bottle that says I still have five refills remaining The same faceless people accompany me on the trolley I’ve witnessed the benefits of Christianity at the light of life but God is still a stranger All alone amongst the crowd people carry on like […]
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STILL HAUNTED (DALLAS ‘99) The cheering crowd three dozen years Ago’s no longer there, But, as I watch, their ghosts appear And toward the limo stare. A sunny noon in late November Nineteen sixty-three; A lady dressed in pink remembered Waving happily. The honoree next to his wife, The Man whom crowd adores. Except for One […]
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MOUNTAINVIEW A sunrise in France, The same on Kauai. From window I glance At mountain so high. Though ages apart And half world away, Their natural art Is full on display. In France the Ardeche Took eons to carve The canyons that stretch Beyond Pontd’Arc. Kauai’s canyons formed Much quicker in time From torrents of […]
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